A Marquis to Marry

by Amelia Grey

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  Susannah’s companion walked out the door with a huff and so stiff that Race was sure she would have snapped in two if anyone had tried to bend her.

  Race took in a deep, raspy breath, feeling calmer than when he arrived. He hated himself for his lack of control where Susannah was concerned, but last night she had moved him like no other woman ever had. After his time in her bed, he was thinking about words like love, forever, and marriage, but today all those words had been stripped away.

  It had been so good between them. No, better than good, it had been the best ever. It had been right. For the first time in his life, he thought he’d actually made love to a woman and not just had sex. He’d thought she trusted him to come to her, to satisfy her, and now he was thinking that all the time he was only a means to get what she had really wanted. The Talbot pearls.

  The hell of it was he still wanted her. He still had those desperate, unexplained feelings for her, even more than before, if that were possible.

  “You may say anything you want to me, my lord, but please keep your voice low.”

  Race noticed the tilt of her head, the rigid set to her shoulders, and unspent tears brimming in her eyes. Suddenly he felt as if a fist had landed in his stomach. Even if she had duped him, he didn’t want her reputation ruined.

  He walked closer to her and quietly said, “You could easily have arranged the theft with Spyglass, Winston, or someone else.”

  She held her ground and didn’t flinch as he neared her. “I do not have the pearls, but I do find it rather fitting that the man who had stolen pearls in his possession now has had them stolen from him. Leave my room, leave my house, and never come back. You are not welcome here.”

  She seemed so resolute, it stunned him. Was he being unreasonable to accuse her? “All right, for now I will. But know this, Duchess, if I find out you do have them, I will follow you to Chapel Gate, or the gates of hell, to get what is mine.”

  Without saying another word, Race turned and left her room. He had to sort through his jangle of emotions, and he couldn’t do it in her presence. What little evidence he had pointed to Susannah as being an accomplice, but she had done a good job pleading her innocence.

  A heavy knot of anger and confusion radiated throughout Race’s chest and he uttered an oath as he hurried down the steps. He stomped back through the untended garden to the tall hedge. He added fresh scratches to his chest and back as he, once again, crawled through the man-made hole in the yew, but Race didn’t wince.

  If Susannah was involved in the theft, she had wounded him much deeper than the shrub.

  Twelve

  My Dearest Alexander,

  My dear friend Lord Chesterfield always was ahead of his time. This quote proves it. “It is most certain, that the reputation of chastity is not so necessary for a woman as that of veracity is for a man, and with reason; for it is possible for a woman to be virtuous, though not strictly chaste, but it is not possible for a man to be virtuous without strict veracity.”

  Your loving Grandmother,

  Lady Elder

  SUSANNAH FELT SHATTERED AS SHE WATCHED RACE walk out of her bedchamber, leaving the door open. She couldn’t move. If she did, she would break into a million pieces. How could he believe she would betray him in such a fashion or that she would betray him at all?

  She needed to think about what she should do now, but her mind was blank. Her body was incapable of feeling, or moving, so she continued to stand in the middle of her room and simply stare into the empty hallway, willing herself not to fall apart.

  She didn’t know how much time had passed before her shoulders sagged, her chin lowered, and her chest heaved with a deep, painful breath.

  After her compromising affair with Lord Martin all those years ago, she should have seen this end with Race coming. It seemed as if fate had once again dealt harshly with her concerning men. But how could she have had any idea of what loomed when, just this morning, she had been so caught up in the rapture of their lovemaking that she felt as if she had finally stepped out of the darkness of the past and into the sunshine of the future?

  Even now, after the angry accusations, she still had an overwhelming feeling that they belonged together.

  But why?

  What made the Marquis of Raceworth so compelling that she still felt love for him in her heart?

  Somehow, she had lost her perspective once again and had been fooled by a handsome gentleman. She hadn’t intended to fall in love with Race, but unfortunately, that is exactly what she had done.

  With her eyes shut, memories of their shared passion spun wildly in her mind, and she had no desire to resist or temper them as she relived every breath, every kiss, and every whisper. She would never forget the strength of his embrace, the thrill of his touch, or the weight of his body on hers. It was the most magical night she had ever experienced.

  She now knew that Race had felt none of the loving emotions that had filled and consumed her, lifted her to heights of joy she could never have imagined and would never feel again. To him, she had simply been a woman willing to share her bed with him, therefore proving he was nothing but a rake. But no matter what he thought of her now, she would never be sorry for their night together. He taught her how truly blissful intimacy could be between a man and a woman who desired each other.

  She would not beg Race to believe she had nothing to do with the disappearance of the pearls. Susannah had begged only once in her life, even though doing so had gone against every fiber of her being. She had been beside herself with grief over Lord Martin’s rejection after he compromised her. But not even that had compared to the desperation she felt when she learned it had been arranged for her to marry the Duke of Blooming. She had begged her father not to force her to marry the fifty-six-year-old stranger. But her father and the duke came to the conclusion that marriage between Susannah and the duke would be a good match. What she wanted no longer mattered. At that time, Susannah had vowed never again to beg for anything.

  Now that she was thinking more clearly, she could see why Race thought every finger on his hand pointed in her direction as being the thief. She had stated plainly she wanted the pearls, and she had asked him to come to her bedchamber the very night they were stolen from him. When she thought about it like that, Race was right; she looked guilty.

  Susannah had two choices. She could fall apart, pine for Race, and deride herself for falling victim once again to a charming man unworthy of her love. But she had been down that road before, and that choice would lead her to nothing but greater misery. On the other hand, she could pull herself up for a time and forget what had happened between her and Race last night and accomplish what she had come to London to do in the first place. Get the pearls.

  That was definitely the better of the two choices.

  As Susannah continued to focus on what had happened, she realized she was wasting precious time. She needed to dress and get busy, as she had a lot to accomplish. She walked over to her wardrobe and pulled out a royal blue carriage dress, chemise, and drawers. She then went to the washbasin and poured fresh water into the bowl. As the cool, wet cloth touched her heated skin, she realized she understood why Race came to the conclusion she was the thief, but she was still deeply hurt by his anger.

  She supposed there was some justification for his belief she had duped him by inviting him into her bed. And perhaps if she had been in his position, she might have concluded the same scenario Race had. Once he had time to think things through, she hoped he would see the improbabilities of her having arranged for the necklace to be stolen on the slight chance his door would be left unlocked.

  Susannah pressed her face into the cloth. She mustn’t allow Race to occupy her thoughts any longer. The only important thing was to find the thief. Race was only a distraction to her real purpose in London. Thankfully, he would now be locked away in her heart to be dealt with when she returned to Chapel Gate and presented the pearls to her mother.


  At that time, Susannah would logically look at what had happened between her and the marquis, settle it in her mind, and move on. So she had given her heart to and trusted another man who disappointed her. She would live through it, and perhaps in time, the heartache in her chest would heal, and her extraordinary feelings for Race would fade.

  She must discover who had the pearls before they skipped London. But where should she look first: for the pirate, the prince’s representative, or the antiquities dealer? She didn’t know anything about the men, how or where to find them. But she had an idea who might be able to help her, and she had no time to waste.

  The pearls had been stolen from her family, and now they had been stolen from Race. It seemed if she wanted them, she was going to have to find them and steal them herself.

  The thought of being a thief should be more distasteful to her than it was, but she couldn’t worry about that.

  As soon as she finished dressing, Susannah hurried below stairs. From the doorway of the drawing room, she saw Mrs. Princeton sitting at the desk with several pieces of paper in front of her.

  “Mrs. Princeton,” Susannah said, walking into the room.

  The woman rose quickly and faced Susannah. Her cheeks were pale, her brown eyes uncommonly red and irritated. Her bottom lip shone bright pink, as if she’d been biting it.

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  Susannah winced inside. Perhaps she had been too hard on the woman earlier that morning. Susannah knew Mrs. Princeton had been quite upset that she had been forced to leave the bedchamber without the marquis accompanying her, but Susannah couldn’t deal with an irate lover and an irate companion at the same time. She didn’t want or need Mrs. Princeton’s opinion of Race, and she hadn’t wanted her in the middle of their argument.

  “I’m sorry you had to witness the uncomfortable confrontation in my room this morning,” Susannah said, moving farther into the room.

  Mrs. Princeton blinked rapidly. “Please, Your Grace. I must be the one to apologize to you. I failed you miserably, and I’m so very sorry I was unable to do more.”

  Susannah’s throat tightened. “So you were unable to keep the rest of the staff from knowing that the marquis stormed into my bedchamber this morning.”

  Mrs. Princeton’s eyes widened. “No, I did that. I immediately sent your maid and the cook out for fresh vegetables and meat for dinner. They’ve just returned, neither of them the wiser. I told Benson to leave at once and go to the stables and prepare your carriage for an outing. I’m certain he didn’t hear anything, either.”

  Relief flooded through Susannah. Mrs. Princeton’s efficiency was impressive. “Good. Thank you. I appreciate your quick thinking in accomplishing that. But how did you know I wanted my carriage this morning?”

  “I didn’t. But I thought it was worth the few coins to get Benson away from the house quickly.”

  Susannah took a deep breath, feeling better that the other servants were not aware of Race’s appearance in her room. There was hope that this scandal would not be spread to every house in London.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Princeton. That was clever of you. Your quick thinking may have saved me from ruin. I do appreciate that, and you acted most appropriately.”

  Her thin lips quivered, and she held her arms stiffly at her sides. “Yes, Your Grace, but I’m sorry I failed to take proper care of you. I feel I should resign my post so you can hire someone more capable than I.”

  Susannah’s heart softened. She had no idea that the woman was so distressed over what happened. “Mrs. Princeton, it is not your job to take care of me. You are my companion, not my chaperone.”

  “I know that, Your Grace, and I will understand if you feel you can no longer employ me because I was unsuccessful in my attempt to help you.”

  “Leave my employ?” Susannah said impatiently. “What on earth are you talking about? You have been with me for ten years. I don’t want you to leave. Mrs. Princeton, I know you were unhappy I dismissed you from my room and allowed the marquis to stay so that I could plead my innocence. I had to do that, even at the risk of my ruin. But you did help me. You did exactly as I had instructed and kept the other servants from overhearing Lord Raceworth. You did not fail me. You saved me. Why would I want you to leave my employ?”

  “So you’re not angry with me?”

  “Certainly not,” Susannah admonished. “You know me. Your opinion is always welcome, but after I hear it, I must make the decision whether to act on your recommendations or my own. London is an entirely different place from Chapel Gate or even Chapel Glade, and I fear I may have to do other things of which you might disapprove. But I don’t want you to leave.”

  The woman gave her a quivering smile. “Thank you, I do not want to leave you, Your Grace. I only felt helpless this morning.”

  “I have valued your companionship all these years, and I do depend on you for many important tasks. I need you now more than I ever have. I don’t want to hear any more talk of your leaving me.”

  Mrs. Princeton smoothed the side of her hair with a trembling hand and took in a deep breath. She slowly walked over to the window and looked out. Susannah remained silent, sensing her companion had more to say and not wanting to rush her.

  “You know, Your Grace, I have never wanted for you the kind of life I’ve had.” She quickly turned shimmering eyes to Susannah. “Not that you would ever be a paid companion to someone, of course.”

  “I understood what you meant,” Susannah said.

  “I’ve not wanted you to have the emptiness that is inside me. I’ve always wanted you to remarry and have children. And it’s not that I’ve been so terribly lonely these years—just empty, lacking. Sometimes when I see children, I know that I have missed holding a baby in my arms, kissing soft pink cheeks and having the thrill of little arms around my neck.” Her eyes glazed with tears as she turned back to the window and looked out. “But there’s more that I’ve missed. After thirty years, I can still remember my husband’s touch and how my body would tremble with expectancy when he came into our bedchamber. You are much too young to live with only memories.”

  Mrs. Princeton’s words stabbed Susannah’s heart. She had felt the same way when Race came into her room last night. She trembled with expectancy. With Race, she thought she had found a man who would be in her future, but this morning that dream was shattered. How would she ever be able to find a man who made her feel the way Race had?

  Susannah remained silent, knowing she had nothing to counter Mrs. Princeton’s words and sensing the woman wasn’t looking for sympathy.

  Mrs. Princeton inhaled deeply and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She looked directly at Susannah and said, “Should you ever decide to relinquish your title as duchess and marry, it would be your duty to marry well. The marquis would certainly be a suitable gentleman for you. He may behave rashly on occasion, as evidenced by this morning, but I believe that is because he is a man of great passion. I have heard talk about him at the parties. I don’t believe he is a fortune hunter, a gambler, or a wastrel. You could do much worse.”

  Mrs. Princeton’s emotional flare-up faded as quickly as it had appeared, and she returned to her composed, rigid self. She was letting Susannah know that she was aware that the marquis had spent the night in Susannah’s bed.

  “I don’t know that I will ever remarry, Mrs. Princeton. Fate has not been kind to me concerning men. However, I will take your kind words to heart and think on them.”

  Mrs. Princeton nodded. “I am available to aid you however you need me.”

  Susannah smiled gratefully. “Good. Now tell me, what is it that you were looking at when I came in?”

  Mrs. Princeton walked over to the desk and picked up several cards and held them out to Susannah. “All these are invitations. Most of these are requests for you to attend parties, balls, and teas. You’ve had fifteen invitations arrive just this morning.”

  “That many?”

  “There are always a
lot of parties near the end of the Season. And it seems most everyone wants you in attendance. It makes them feel quite popular to have a duchess honor them with an appearance.”

  “I suppose you are right. Tell me, did I receive a letter from my mother?” Susannah asked hopefully.

  “No, Your Grace.”

  Susannah cleared her throat. “Well, maybe tomorrow. Are there any invitations for tonight?”

  “Three.”

  ”Marvelous. While I wait for the carriage to arrive, I’ll look at them and decide which one I want to attend.”

  “Do you mind if I ask where we are going this morning?”

  Susannah folded her arms across her chest. “I’m going quite improperly to see a gentleman. You will, of course, go with me, but I must speak to the man alone.”

  “I understand. I’ll get our capes, gloves, and bonnets while you look over the invitations, so we’ll be ready when the carriage arrives.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Princeton, for everything.”

  The older woman smiled shyly and hurried away.

  Thirteen

  My Dearest Grandson Alexander,

  Think on these true words from Lord Chesterfield: “To be heard with success, you must be heard with pleasure.”

  Your loving Grandmother,

  Lady Elder

  AN HOUR LATER, SUSANNAH AND MRS. PRINCETON stood in front of Sir Randolph Gibson’s door.

  A well-dressed butler answered. “Yes?” he questioned with his nose so high in the air he had to look down on Susannah, though he wasn’t any taller than she.

  “I am the Dowager Duchess of Blooming, and I’m here to see Sir Randolph. If he is at home, I would be pleased if he could give me a few minutes of his time.”

  The butler snapped to attention and blinked rapidly. It was almost comical at how instantly his attitude changed when he heard she was a duchess.